PEPIGRAMS 

AND 

JINGLES 

(In Pure Jinglish) 


FRANKLIN W, COLLINS, D. C. L. 


















































































































































PEPIGRAMS 

AND 

JINGLES 

(In Pure Jinglish) 


FRANKLIN W. COLLINS, D. C. L. 


COPYRIGHTED 

1924 



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OCT 21 1924 

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Foreword 


God grant this little book may win its way, 


Into some heart that longs for help today. 



At the close of a Memorial Day address in 
Butte, Montana, an inebriated ex-soldier approach¬ 
ed the writer, who happened to be the speaker of 
the occasion, and declared with emphasis, “That 
was the most appropiated (hie) speech I ever 


heard”. 


While disclaiming any deliberate intent to ap- 
propiate any of the material of others in the pages 
of this booklet, on the other hand we shall not 
claim that every paragraph embraced therein 
is entirely original. 

The suggestion and inspiration for the publi¬ 
cation of this little volume of serious and whim¬ 
sical thought first came from my good wife, to 
whom I owe a debt immeasurable, and to whom 
the booklet is affectionately dedicated. 


Franklin W. Collins 






























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♦ 


















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THE GO GETTERS 


Everything comes to the comer. 

“Everything comes to him who waits,” 
needs an interpreter. 

“Everything comes to him who 
works,” interprets itself. 

The street corner chap seldom cor¬ 
ners anything except the cop, the county 
house and the coroner. 

Here’s hoping that Luther Burbank, 
having removed the spine from the cac¬ 
tus, may implant it in many of our bud¬ 
ding statesmen. 

The hero is he who gets to the front 
with a patched posterior. 

Caleb was not afraid of giants. Many 
of us are “skeered” of skeeters. 


(7) 


A man should never tire, retire or 
expire; so long as he has a gun to fire at 
the devil’s choir. 

The chap who sat on the bank to 
wait till the river ran by, is of the same 
kidney as the average member of the 
‘“Ancient and Ornery Order of Squat¬ 
ters, Setters and Spitters.” 

If you must emulate our friend, the 
dog, be a pointer or a retriever but never 
a setter. This is no slam on the Llewel¬ 
lyn family. Among canines, they fill a 
useful niche. 

The lad who hails from Hardscrabble 
hill, will outstrip the child from Soft- 
snapville. 

The chap who can convert stumbling 
blocks into step ladders can conquer any 
citadel. 

The plodder of today is the possessor 
of tomorrow. 


( 8 ) 



There are no short cuts and no cut 
rates to Successville. 

Luck is pluck, plus purpose, patience, 
and pep. 

There is no substitute for work. 

Far from being a curse, work is one 
of the world’s choicest blessings. 

Grit and thought and work will make 
any man great, if mixed with the Grace 
of God. 

Take the high road, though it may be 
steep and rocky, for the low road is easy 
at first, but leads to the bad lands at 
last. 

The way to Hell is easy—so easy that 
one may find it without a guide book. 

Hope for the best, prepare for the 
worst, and hit the line with all your 
might. 


( 9 ) 


Think it over if you will, then put it 
over with a will. 

It takes more than a blower to be a 
goer or a 4 ‘show er.” 

Genius is the fruit which grows on the 
tree of industry. 

Failure is an educator. If one is an 
apt pupil one will profit by it as much 
as by success. There is no hope for the 
man who is crushed by one failure. To 
the man of faith and pep, failure is not 
the end of the road, but a way station 
on the line. 

Fight yourself, fight for yourself, but 
above all do not fail to fight for the 
other fellow. You are not the best ever 
and he is not the worst ever. 

There is so much to be done, and so 
little time in which to do it, that one 
cannot afford to spend one’s time with 
the gabbers and the setters. 


(10) 


Speaking of preparedness, young 
man, if you expect to whip the devil, 
you must lay in a supply of ammunition, 
and unlimber your seige guns. 

Next to the Gospel of Christianity 
comes the Gospel of Industry. 

The law of labor is the law of life. 

Contentment is the child of industry. 

Escape from toil is slavery. 

Work is the world’s best tonic. 

Work is our birth-right. The idler 
robs himself of his birth-right. 

God may not have given you genius. 
If He gave you grit and gumption, 
thank Him, and get in the game. 

With the lazy man, wishing and win¬ 
ning are not in speaking terms. 


(ii) 


Christianity and industry are the twin 
screws propelling the world’s Titanic. 
Infidelity and idleness are the icebergs 
in the vessel’s track. 

The tireless worker is never the tire¬ 
less talker. 

There is just one chap who can raise 
your pay check. You ought to know 
him. 

Don’t be a dill-pickle. 

If you can’t be a pippin, you can at 
least be a do-berry. 

Luck & Co., are a bankrupt house. 
Pluck & Co., are always solvent. 


(12) 


THE AIM AND THE GAME 

As sure as shooting: No aim—no* 
game. 

One should never forget that it is only 
by having an object in view that one will 
arrive within speaking distance of an ob¬ 
ject to view. 

That man is already licked, who no 
aim has ever picked. 

Were it not for the “You cans”, the 
Yukon would be Yukon’t today. 

One live booster beats a flock of dead 
roosters. 

Cities, commonwealths, and churches 
are blessed by boosters and cursed by 
roosters. 

Dough faces and do-nothings never 
moved the car of progress an inch. 

Be right—then fight. 


(13) 


Being up against it is no excuse for 
being down in the mouth. 

Every successful man has more than 
once looked into the leering face of fail¬ 
ure, taken another loop in his belt, slam¬ 
med his teeth together, summoned every 
ounce of pluck, and won in a walk. 

Concentration is the keynote in the 
cantata of success. 

Until you have conquered yourself 
you will cut but a sorry figure trying to 
conquer others. The world’s conquer¬ 
ors have been self-conquerors. 

Nothing but death or triumph can 
stop the man who wills. 

Life isn’t a “pink tea” party, with 
success as one of the favors. 

Determine in your heart and say to 
God, “I will”— and the devil, “I won’t.” 


(14) 




YOU MUST ADVERTISE 


To The Merchant : 

If you have any prunes to sell. 

Or expect folks to buy your pies, 
You must uncork some kind of yelk 
Yea, mister, you must advertise. 
To The Politician : 

If you would hold voters like gluev 
And be a “Poo Bah” in their eyes,, 
Forever keep this thought in view. 
To win out, you must advertise. 

To The Preacher : 

If you would run the gospel train. 
Hauling saved sinners to the skies, 
I trust my caution’s not in vain. 
Sky-pilot, you must advertise. 

To The Lover: 

If you are courting a sweet thing, 
Don’t waste your all on goo-goo 
eyes, 

Lest the duckling should take wing, 
With a drake who doth advertise. 


(15) 


EYE OPENERS 


As a rule the things we get without 
money cost us good money to retain. 

Closing one’s eyes to the facts does 
not remove them, any more than closing 
one’s eyes to an overdraft will remove 

it. 

When a fellow comes to you for ad¬ 
vice, as a rule he wants you to tell him 
what he has already determined to do. 

If you want a place in the sun, you 
must shun the shady life. 

Forget it! There are many things 
which it is wiser to forget, and one of 
them is the memory of a wrong. 

Do not consult the calendar to learn 
how old you are. Consult your heart, 
and let the calendar “go hang itself” 
on the wall. 


(16) 


Hatred makes foes. Love makes 
friends. 

A whizzer at twenty is a has-wuzzer 
at forty. 

If one has sunshine in one’s soul, one 
does not need Persian rugs. More¬ 
over, Persian rugs upon the floor will 
not put sunshine in the soul. 

Some theories are like some faces, 
they look good at a long distance. 

Talk is cheap (nothing is cheaper) 
and nothing so cheapens a cause as cheap 
talk. 

Facing the facts dispels delusions. 

The best man may be maligned at 
times, just as the best fruit tree is likely 
to be clubbed more frequently than all 
the rest. 


(17) 


Hatred hurts the hater more than the 
hated. 

Every man is either a lifter or a 
leaner. The lifters make the world 
lighter and brighter, while the leaners 
add their own weight to the world’s load 
of misery. 

If one must have a fault, and most 
men have, let it be that of Timon of 
Athens, “Too much integrity.” 

Merit is never seen in so favorable a 
light as through the lens of adversity. 

The clouds which the sun pierces 
when it sets in splendor glorify the sun 
and are glorified by it. 

Any fifth rate fakir can tell the peo¬ 
ple what they want to hear. It takes 
bravery and honesty to tell the people 
what they ought to hear. 


(18) 





We need more steadiness and less 
speed, more grit and grace and less gal¬ 
lop and gulp. 

When will men be wise enough to 
know that worldly wisdom is not to be 
compared with the wisdom which cometh 
from above? 

Go straight! No crooked man can 
enter the straight gate. 

One particular nag is not popular with 
particular people, and her name is 
nightmare . 

What is a paradox? Two doctors, of 
course. 

America has tackled a tremendous 
task in trying to teach the diplomatic 
world that diplomacy does not mean du¬ 
plicity. 


(19) 


The love of some folk is no higher 
than the bread pan and no longer than 
the bread line. 

Speaking of field sports one need not 
be a Marathoner to run in debt. 

Tenshun! Tenshun! Kiddo! What’s 
the use o’ cussin’? 


(20) 


FAITH AND WORKS 


Without vision man is but little better 
than a sheep. 

One who never aspires never acquires. 

Faith is the forerunner of success. 
Skepticism is the harbinger of defeat. 

Faith is clear-eyed, strong-limbed, 
supple, self-reliant and courageous. 
Skepticism is blear-eyed, irresolute, fear¬ 
ful, despondent and impious. 

How we limp along the lane of life 
when our feet are not shod with faith. 

Haunt not the past, nor let it haunt 
thee. Let it help thee to live sanely to¬ 
day and build tomorrow with care. 

A lighted tallow-dip has a burned out 
arc-light cheated of its chance. 


(21) 


You may be very sure that God has a 
wireless system for mariners on the sea 
of life. 

Without chastening there would be 
no strengthening. 

God will take care of you, if you will 
only co-operate. 

Self-pity spells certain defeat. 

The keenest joy comes from impart¬ 
ing joy. 

“Is life worth living?” That de¬ 
pends upon the liver. 

The truly big man never harbors hat¬ 
red in his heart, never nurses the mem¬ 
ory of a wrong in his life and never fails 
to acknowledge the merit of a com¬ 
petitor with his lips. 

It takes three things to make a real 
big man, and only three; LOVE OF 
GOD, LOVE OF MAN, LOVE OF 
COUNTRY. 


(22) 







LEARNING TO LIVE 


The go-givers are the go-getters. 

As we give so shall we live. We can’t 
live right unless we give right. 

You buy happiness on the European 
plan—pay for what you get. 

The harder we take life, the harder 
we make life for others. 

Love is the fulfilling of the law. 
Without love all our pretensions are as 
unsubstantial as toy balloons. 

Keep your conscience awake. A 
sleeping conscience is a greater menace 
than a howling wolf. 

The chap who lightens the burdens of 
others is never a light weight. 

Speaking of enemies—no enemy is 
comparable to one’s selfish self. 


( 23 ) 


When will we learn the greatest les¬ 
son of all—that to live for others is to 
live forever? 

If we pin to man, he may fail; but if 
we pin to God, He cannot fail. 

What one gets from God, he owes to 
man. 

Try smiling! A smile will pilot your 
craft through the fog, while a scowl will 
sink it in the bog. 

No man can be true to God and false 
to his fellow man. 


If one faces the sunlight, the shadows 
are sure to fall behind. 


Selfishness is a monster of horrid 
mien. Love is an angel with pinions 
tipped with gold. 


( 24 ) 








If you sit on the fence and watch your¬ 
self amble by, you may not be so chesty 
about your beautiful glide. 

It is might difficult to put one’s self 
in another’s shoes while another is oc¬ 
cupying them. 

One can hardly blame a self-made man 
for being in love with his maker. 

In Boston there is said to be an en¬ 
terprising dealer who for a cash consid¬ 
eration agrees to supply any social 
climber with a beautiful family tree. 
Some grafter he!! 

Speaking of color schemes, a brown 
study does not necessarily mean a blue 
funk. 

Here’s to the fellow who has the grit 
to be a good fellow without going to 
the devil to prove it. 

Nearly everybody has a complaint. 


( 25 ) 


If it isn’t neuritis or laryngitis or mon- 
eyitis, it is darn-foolitis or something 
equally incurable. 

Your name may not appear in “Who’s 
Who in America”. Be sure to have it 
registered in “The Lamb’s Book of Life . 


( 26 ) 


RUN O’ THE MINE 

Breathes there a man with soul so dead. 
Who never to himself hath said, 

Atas, the vacuum in my head! 

Envy is a malignant foe. 

Whose shaft lays its possessor low. 

W hat people are prone to lay to fate, 
Comes from their failure to lock the gate. 

Today is all that we can own. 

Tomorrow belongs to God alone. 

So little done! So little time! 

Evokes from me this little rhyme! 

If the price of liberty is vigilance eternal. 
The price of salvation is devotion di¬ 
urnal. 

Feeling good is not to he despised, 

Being good is greatly to be prized, 
Making good—all is herein comprised. 


( 27 ) 


Soft snaps mean soft chaps. 

Rumble, rumble, little van, 

Grumble, grumble, little man, 

Rumbling doth not hurt the van, 

Grumbling doth not help the man. 

Life is sure to be worth while, 

To one who meets it with a smile. 

Speaking of joy, there is no joy like the 
joy of youth, 

Speaking of thrills, there is no thrill like 
the thrill of truth. 

The wrinkles in your face don’t flatter, 

If you keep them from your heart—no 
matter. 

How dear to my heart are the scenes of 
my childhood, 

When fond recollections present them 
once more, 

The school house, the teacher, the switch 
of real hardwood, 

And the populous comb that hung by 
the door. 


( 28 ) 


Won’t you walk into my parlor,” said 
the spider to the fly, 

Tis the sweetest, snuggest parlor you 
ever did espy.” 

“I thank you very kindly for the invite 
which you send, 

Alas, I have a sweet and sticky party to 
attend.” 

If in speaking or in writing. 

These three things were kept in view, 
Downright failures would be few— 
Simplicity — Sincerity — Brevity . 


( 29 ) 



JOHN, THE MALIGN 

The fool hath said in his heart, “John 
Barleycorn is my friend.” 

Of all the reptiles I’d like to kill. 

The vilest is the worm of the still. 

Appointing wet officials to enforce a 
dry law isn’t even a dry joke. It’s a 
farce. 

The occupation of the burglar is on a 
higher plane than that of the bootlegger. 

It should be a flying flag and not a 
lying flag. 

If it stands for anything and floats for 
anything, it is the constitution. 

An attack on the 18 th Amendment is 
an attack upon the flag. 

The judge or the official who swears 
to support the constitution, and deserts 


( 30 ) 


it Tor its foes, should be tried for treason, 
-and upon conviction, shot. 

Far from being restored to the poor, 
-booze should be taken from the rich. 

Spitting upon the sanctity of law and 
rending to fragments the decrees of God 
and man, are favorite pastimes of 
rum’s battalions. 

We’ve scotched the booze snake. Let’s 
kill it for all time and for all lands. 

A man needs booze about as much as 
a chanticleer needs dentistry. 

Whiskey and freedom gang to- 
gitiler"—Bobby Burns. 

Only to paralyze and wither—the 
Author. 

Our dear old mother (God bless her) 
was walking in the garden with her son, 
when a snake crossed the path. In ter- 


( 31 ) 


ror, she cried, “Kill it Frank!” A well- 
aimed blow dispatched the snake. Still 
in doubt, Mother anxiously inquired, “Is 
it dead?” On being assured that it was 
dead beyond peradventure, she said, 
‘Take no chances! Kill it again! ” 

“Take no chances! Kill it again!” 
should be the shibboleth of all the forces 
of righteousness as they face the reviv¬ 
ing monster. 

The citizen who connives at the rape 
of the constitution, whatever his wealth 
or social position, is a scoundrel and a 
traitor. 

He may parade his patriotism from the 
house top, but his unholy co-partnership 
with outlawry stamps him as an enemy 
of his country and his kind. 

Even a blind man can see, a deaf 
man can hear, and a paralytic feel, the 


( 32 ) 


Satanic subterfuge involved in the re¬ 
turn of light wine and beer. 

The booze reptiles’ fangs are still 
working, though the constitutional club 
fell hard on the serpent’s head. 

Sleeping viligance alone will save so¬ 
ciety from the calamitous return of the 
devil’s principal aide. 


WHO CARES AND WHO DARES? 

Who dares to fight the evils of the 
age? Who wants to stop the “Steeple 
Chase to Hell?” 

Too often commercialism smacks of 
scoundrelism. Witness the touting of 
“coffin nails” on the billboards of the 
land. 

Far from being a legitimate article of 
commerce, the cigarette is a menace and 
a curse. 

Anyone with half an eye, quarter of 
a nose, the sixteenth part of an under¬ 
standing, and the thirty-second part of 
a conscience, knows that the cigarette is 
health destroying and character debas¬ 
ing. 


“A cigarette in every mouth,” is said 
to be the shibboleth of the tobacco 
trust. It is already in the mouth of 


( 34 ) 


every pirate, bootlegger, pool room loaf¬ 
er, pot-house politician, pick pocket, 
and film hero and heroine. 

There should be an ordinance in 
every community against the degrada¬ 
tion of the boys and girls through the use 
of the bill-boards and newspaper col¬ 
umns to depict the delights that come 
from nicotine. 

When a pin-head with a coffin-nail 
or a Cabbago-de-cent-a-pieco between his 
yellow fangs, blows asphyxiating fumes 
into one’s face, one feels like recipro¬ 
cating with a punch in the gas generator. 

A boy needs a narcotic about as much 
as a blue jay needs a step ladder. 


Billy Muldoon, who runs a recuper¬ 
ative ranch up among the hills of West¬ 
chester, and who has rescued more than 
a thousand blase and beat-out boobs 


( 35 ) 


from the scrap pile, says, “Avoid cig¬ 
arettes as you would the devil.” 

“I’ve smoked out the facts,” sagely 
declares the big man on the bill-board. 
If he had, he would not smoke at all. 

’Twas better put to say. “I’ve smoked, 
and now I smell like a sewer rat.” 

“They satisfy”, as applied to the cig- 
garettes should be suppressed and the 
“They stupefy”, substituted. Why not 
tell the truth once in a while? 

Said the young chawer to the old 
chawer (on the bill-board), “Dad, it’s 
dust proof.” How about disgust proof, 
or filth, or fool proof? 

The billboards are everywhere de¬ 
faced to debase the child life of America. 


( 36 ) 


Frequently the fellow of the littlest 
expectations is the fellow of the largest 
expectorations. 

Ever meet a cigarettist who cared a 
continental whether you like his filthy 
fumes or not? 

This jingle tells of a parson whose 
jaws 

Are ever at work on the quid he 
chaws. 

In preaching, in prayer, the quid 
is still there, 

Me thinks, old Nick must sit up and 
stare. 

The press of the Golden State fairly 
bristles with warnings like this: “SAVE 
THE WOODS—from cigarettes”! 

Why not SAVE THE BOYS AND 
GIRLS from the self same plague? 


( 37 ) 


EARTH’S CHOICEST FLOWERS 


A cup will hold only a cup full. If it 
is filled with the good there will be no 
room for the bad. 

Fill the minds and hearts of our boys 
and girls with the good, the wholesome 
and the true, and the containers can hold 
no more. 

The greatest curse is idleness. Satan 
slips up on a boy or girl, just as on a 
man or woman, when invited to call. 
Idleness is the only invitation the devil 
needs. 

Every pool hall is a living illustra¬ 
tion of the devil at work upon humans 
who will not work. 

My son, shun pool halls, pole cats, 
and politicians. (The pot-house vari- 
ety) 


( 38 ) 


Thistle seed does not need to be cul¬ 
tivated. Once planted it grows swiftly 
and sturdily. 

Flowers must be cultivated and pro¬ 
tected, or they will degenerate and die. 

The worst thing possible for the aver¬ 
age lad is to be financed by his dad. 

Why wonder at the bumper crop of 
young fools, with myriads of old fools 
sowing fool seed everywhere. 

The boy life and girl life of America 
are sacrificed daily and hourly to the 
twin furies of greed and lust. 

Too many homes are headless, no 
wonder they are Christless. 

Sad to relate, millions of firesides are 
fireless spiritually. 

Every child is entitled to protection 
and direction. Alas and alas! Myriads 
are growing up without either. 

(39) 


The mismanaged home is the kinder¬ 
garten of anarchy. 

“A child left to himself bringeth his 
mother to shame”, so says The Book. 
Millions of children are left to them¬ 
selves and millions of mothers are being 
brought to shame. 

If parents would obey the scripture 
which says, “Train up a child in the wav 
he should go,” few children would waste 
so much time seeing how many wild 
oats then can sow. 

No father, however successful he may 
be, can leave his son success. Success 
is not a bequest but a conquest. 

Boys are future men. Men are former 
boys. There should be a better under¬ 
standing between undergrown men 
and overgrown boys. 


( 40 ) 


Childhood is running a handicap to¬ 
day with the odds decidedly against eith¬ 
er boy or girl attaining the goal of un¬ 
sullied manhood or womanhood. 

The child problem is the biggest 
problem this side of eternity. 

The boy and girl product of America 
is not receiving the protection which is 
accorded pigs, poultry and Pekingese 
pups. 

God will hold you and me to a strict 
account for the grist we bring to the 
devil’s mill. 

Someone has said, “If I were to die 
tomorrow, I would plant a tree today”. 
Fine as that sentiment is, let me sug¬ 
gest a finer, “If I were to die tomorrow, 

I would help a child today.” 

Most of the failures in life are trace¬ 
able to home neglect. 


( 41 ) 


Parents produce children but do not 
protect or direct them. 

American parenthood has abdicated 
the throne of authority. The child sits 
upon the throne today and governs and 
threatens. Woe to the father or mother 
who over-rules the will of the child. 

If Abe Lincoln were to enter the 
average American home today, he would 
be regarded with contempt by the aver¬ 
age youth and maiden. 

Once we had homes in America. To¬ 
day the average home is a mere hotel, 
where the landlord supplies the food and 
clothing, shelter and cigarettes, joy-rides 
and jiggle-wiggle dances, petting part¬ 
ies, and vile picture shows; while the 
guests repay their hosts in disobedience 
and often in disgrace. 

Don’t blame the boys! Don’t blame 


( 42 ) 


the girls! Blame the miserable, make- 
believe parents who are responsible for 
present day conditions. 

The simple life has gone. The old 
fashioned home has vanished. The boys 
are blase and the girls are berouged. 
Pleasures with the devil’s kick (and old 
Nick can kick) are demanded. 

No longer an evening at home with 
father and mother, but out the young 
folk go; the cigarette sucker and the 
bobbed, berouged, lip-sticked flapper to¬ 
gether—motoring, tangoing, cock-tail¬ 
ing, galloping to Hell, with nothing to 
stop them. 

Plain talk? YES! WOULD TO GOD 
IT WERE NOT NEEDED! Then in¬ 
deed it might be unheeded. 

It will require a bolt of TNT or a jolt 
from God’s hand to arouse the sleepy 


( 43 ) 


heads and sleepier hearts and conscien¬ 
ces in America today. 

It is to weep, but unfortunately weep¬ 
ing does not mend the broken family 

tree. 

The supreme need is men and women 
who will fight for God and who will not 

flinch. 


( 44 ) 



CHILDHOOD’S CLAIMS 


A pretty piece of plastic clay 
Is yours to mould in God’s own 
way. 

Nothing sweeter, nothing daintier, 
nothing finer, nothing more angelic, 
than the little bunch of flesh and fluffi¬ 
ness we call the new born babe. 

Mother walked along the crumbling 
lip of death to give it birth, and jewels 
it in her heart and life as a gift beyond 
the lure of price. 

Precious little traveler from another 
sphere, what purpose brings you here? 

You were not consulted about the 
voyage on which you came. 

You were brought here without your 
consent. 

For what purpose time alone will tell. 


( 45 ) 


Just such an innocent, helpless, lov¬ 
able lump of baby clay, was Socrates, 
Plato, Milton, Shakespeare, Words¬ 
worth, Frances Willard, Abe Lincoln, 
and Roosevelt one day. 

What does the future hold for you, 
little barque from another isle. 

Two angels hover about ^our crib 
and watch the dimples chase each other 
on your cheek. 

One of these has a beauty and 
breathes a fragrance not to be found 
except around the throne. 

The other is dark and sinister and 
watches eagerly for a chance to poison 
the purity of the infant soul. 

The fight is on, and it is to end in 
triumph or tragedy. 

Parent: what is your part in the duel 


( 46 ) 


over the destiny of the little life which 
you have caused to be? 

If our pen were tipped with fire, we 
could not half portray your responsi- 
sibility. 

The sins of the father and the mother 
will accompany the tiny traveler on its 
journey and weight it down, or the vir¬ 
tues of both will go down the years with 
it to give it wings. 

Which will it be? 

No fortune you can build will ever 
requite for the misfortune of wrecking 
the future of this budding life. 

No worldly success which you may 
obtain will ever compensate you for the 
failure which you may reap in the ruin 
of your child. 

Wealth is fickle, fame is fragile, life 
is brief. 


( 47 ) 


Happiness and honor may be yours 
and your child may share these precious 
heritages with you, if you guard your¬ 
self and safe-guard your child. 

The ancient Spartans exposed their 
crippled children to the wolves of Ty- 
getus. 

The modern Americans expose their 
comely offspring to wolves which are in¬ 
finitely more terrible than Tygetus 
could produce. 

From a heart that bleeds for the neg¬ 
lected children of today, the author 
pleads with duty neglecting parents to 
give every child a genuine chance. 

“Be not deceived. God is not mock¬ 
ed. Whatsoever a man soweth that 
shall he also reap.” 

GIVE YOUR CHILD A CHANCE. 


( 48 ) 


THE TOTS 


His mamma had been telling him a- 
bout God, and God’s home in the sky, 
and it had made a deep impression. 
One night he was riding with his par¬ 
ents when some fire works were being 
discharged. When a huge bomb burst 
in the upper sky with a resounding re¬ 
port, scattering fire in every direction, 
he looked up into his mother’s face and 
inquired, “Mamma didn’t that scare 
God? 

He was a sturdy little chap, who 
could run pretty fast for one of his age, 
and we accosted him with, “Milo, do 
you suppose you can run as fast as a 
horse?” Milo thought a few seconds, 
then looking up brightly, remarked, 
Yes—if the horse doesn’t run very 
fast”. 

On our street one day we asked Mal- 


( 49 ) 


let, aged five, “Mallet, won’t you give 
me your six-toed cat?” “No, sir!” he 
replied very promptly. “Well, Mallet, 
if you won’t give me the six-toed cat, 
you’ll at least give me the new baby, 
won’t you?” “No sir” said Mallet, 
more decisively, “you can’t have any of 
our animals”. 

We were talking to the Sunday School 
on Sunday morning, and asked the child¬ 
ren, “Why do you come to Sunday 
School?” Whereat a little tot piped 
up, “ ’Cos my mamma makes me.” If 
she could have truthfully said, “ ’Cos 
my mamma takes me”, how much 
stronger it would have been. 


( 50 ) 


POOR OLD DAD 


Whole reams have been writ about 
mother, 

Which is perfectly proper, my lad, 

I rise to remark there’s another 
Worth a little attention—that’s Dad. 

He’s up with the lark in the morning, 
Nor ne’er stops till night’s curtain 
falls, 

Weary and worn, complaint ever 
scorning. 

Homeward at dusk he patiently 
crawls. 

His face is furrowed with care-lines, 
His shoulders are stooped pretty bad, 
Day by day on cold grub he dines, 
And tries to look pleasant, poor Dad. 

In winter, while bleak winds are 
blowing, 


( 51 ) 


And society’s cavorting like mad, 
Forever the family’s going, 

There’s a single exception—that’s 

Dad. 

Their wardrobes the swellest, most 
recent, 

Following fashion’s dnrnfoolest fad; 
Pop’s raiment is welinigh indecent. 
Any old thing’s good enough for Dad. 

In summer the wild waves they’re 
wooing, 

Chasing hither and thither, like mad, 
There’s no one at home who is stew¬ 
ing, 

Save the dog, the tom cat, and Dad. 


(52) 


THE KEY TO THE KINGDOM 


Speaking of luxury—0, the luxury of 
living for others! 

Speaking of business—the business 
of every man should be to serve his fel¬ 
low man. 

If one expects to multiply one’s joys, 
one must divide his blessings. It is a 
cinch the selfish man never gets within 
shooting distance of joy birds. 

The finest field sport on earth is to 
steady another’s feet when he is slipping, 
and plant hope-bulbs in forlorn hearts. 

If nobody cared, the world would be a 
desolate place, fit only for the devil and 
his imps. 

Do you want a friend? Be a friend! 

There are too many “reeds shaken by 


(53) 


the wind”: and too few “staffs on which 
to lean”. 

If you’ve got the heart, you’ll soon 
learn the art of living. 

Peace of mind is the prize of the ages. 
No piece of money ever coined can pur¬ 
chase it. 

If you love and are loved, you have 
discovered the spring of joy, without 
which wealth is a thorn bush, fame a 
dry well and life itself an alkali plain. 

Browning says, “God’s in His Heav¬ 
en; all’s well with the world”. 

Would that Browning had said, 
“God’s in His Heaven, all will be well 
with the world when the world gets 
right with God. 


(54) 


TIGHTWAD TALES 


Living richly beats dying rich in the 
ratio of 100 to 1. 


It is a remorseless climb up the cliffs 
and over the crags to the citadel of 
wealth. Along the way are corpses and 
crimes and catastrophes without num¬ 
ber. 

Many a man has made a million who 
never made a friend. 

“The calls are so many, I’ll not give 
to any”—from the Tales of a Tight¬ 
wad. 

“The Simple Annals of the Poor” 
are not to be compared with “The Hard 
Luck Stories of the Rich”. 


There are folk who love money so 
much and hate to part with it so badly 


(55) 








that such separation is the only hell in 
which they believe. 

The tightwad does not own his mon¬ 
ey; his money owns him. 

Money is all right in its place, but 
when it dislodges ideals and debauches 
honor and integrity it is a curse. 

The poorest persons are those with 
fat purses and lean hearts. 

The richest people are those who have 
rich minds and souls, whatever the con¬ 
tents of the purse. 

The tightwads of our day are like the 
Pharisees of Christ’s day—long on the 
“short green” (mint, anice, and cum¬ 
min) and short on the “long green” (le¬ 
gal tender). 

“Grow rich and you will have no en- 


( 56 ) 






emies”, says Dean Swift. How about 
real friends? 

The story of Lazarus and Dives is 
treated like a fairy tale by the rich. As 
God lives and rules it will have many 
repetitions in the grim hereafter. 

Marble staircases in marble palaces 
too often mean marble hearts in their 
occupants. 

Until we learn to give, give, give, in¬ 
stead of get, get, get, we shall never 
learn to live, live, live. 

Many of us would be greater sinners 
if we had greater purses. 

No man truly gives his heart to God 
who withholds his purse. 

To live for money is to feed on chaff. 
To live for fame is to feed on air. To 
live for God is to feed on life. 


( 57 ) 


Men grasp for gold. As well might 
they grasp for water. The more they 
grasp, the less they’ve got. 

If the rich gave in proportion to the 
poor, God’s causes would never suffer 
for support. 

The key to the Kingdom of Heaven is 
unselfishness. 

The tightwad will look in vain for 
the key on the last great day. 

Some fathers are so busy making 
money that they have no time to make 
men out of their boys. 

Some men serve the Lord with their 
mouths and the devil with their money. 

So many can figure costs, so few can 
measure values. 

The mystery of mysteries is how folks 
can stuff their stomachs, furbish their 


( 58 ) 





homes, loll in their limousines, lie about 
their incomes, chase the fickle goddess 
of pleasure around the globe, and 
scarcely ever give a thought to the child¬ 
ren who are cheated of their chance. 

“Blessed is he who considereth the 
poor”, so sayeth the Psalmist. Consid¬ 
eration is well enough to start with, but 
unless it is followed by meat and mur- 
phys, the poor man’s paunch will be as 
empty as was the treasury before Ham¬ 
ilton “smote the rock”. Consideration 
and action are Heaven born twins in the 
household of helpfulness, useless each 
without the other. 

As life’s sun for us shall settle in 
the west, shall we be able to pass Christ’s 
acid test. 

“Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of 
the least of these, my brethren, ye did 
it unto me—come, ye blessed.” 


( 59 ) 






“Inasmuch as ye did it not unto one 
of the least of these, my brethren, ye did 
it not unto me—depart, ye cursed.” 

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” 
Assuredly, my friend. 

Self is the devil’s reaper, 

And will land you in the end. 


( 60 ) 


UNCLE EPHRIAM’S IDEE 


Of What is Coming to the Human Hog 
in the Hereafter . 

There’s sartin fellers I know, more’n 
ten er ’leven, 

Hide skinners and wuss, 

Who’ll find when they git to go, that 
there haint no Heaven 
Fer a selfish cuss. 

Arter sarvin’ Satan so well, and widder 
wimmin 

Grindin’ to pus, 

Old Nick’ll need ’em in Hell, ’cos there 
haint no Heaven 
Fer a selfish cuss. 

Everything these varmints view, to gob¬ 
ble ther’re weavin’ 

A web er a muss. 

But Hell’ll gobble ’em too, since there 
haint no Heaven 
Fer a selfish cuss. 


( 61 ) 


I try my darndest to be fergivin’—try 
—till 

I jest about bust. 

Them critters! The consarndest! Bub* 
there haint no Heaven 
Fer a selfish cuss. 


THY WORD IS TRUTH 


Whose word? Thy word. Of whom 
do we speak? God. 

Why God’s Word? Did God write 
it? 

Yes! He inspired holy men to do it. 

How may we know this? 

Its verity has been established by 
the most thorough and thoughtful 
scholarship of the age, • and has been 
proved by the experience of millions 
who have tried it. 

Its verity is as eifclusively established 
as that George Washington knelt in the 
snows of Valley Forge to pray for his 
bare-foot army; as that Abraham Lin¬ 
coln wrestled with God in prayer in the 
darkest days of the war between the 
states; and as that Ferdinand Foch con¬ 
stantly laid the cause of the Allies be¬ 
fore the Almighty, and confidently a- 
waited the result. 


( 63 ) 


Truly God lives. His Word stands. 
His testimonies are sure. 

The trouble with too many folks is 
that they will not accept anything 
which cannot be demonstrated by hu¬ 
man reason. 

Human reason is far too frail to ap¬ 
prehend or comprehend God. 

Reason is impotent compared to 
faith. 

The brainiest men of the world, Soc¬ 
rates, Plato, St. Paul, Charlemagne, 
Gladstone, Lloyd George, Washington, 
Lincoln, Hamilton and Roosevelt, 
found themselves at times in their lives 
when reason failed, and their only ref¬ 
uge was Faith. 

To this refuge they fled. 

This refuge is large enough to shel¬ 
ter even you of little faith. 


( 64 ) 


Skeptic, try and see how faith will il¬ 
luminate your' r life and bring blessed 
peace into your heart. 

Try faith and never again will you 
be tempted to question the verity of 
The Book . 


( 65 ) 



WHAT THINK YE OF CHRIST: 

“As a man thinketh in his heart, so 
is he.” What are you thinking in your 
heart concerning the Christ ? 

Too many regard Him as a myth, or 
a being almost nebulous and detached 
from present day humanity. 

Too many postpone serious consid¬ 
eration of Christ until a more conveni¬ 
ent season, while pursuing the fleeting 
phantom of pleasure. 

Too many declare His standards as 
impossible for sinful humanity. 

Too many affect to find belief in His 
supernatural character and mission in¬ 
credible. 

Too many fail to acknowledge Him 
as co-equal with God. 

Too many are worshiping idols. 


( 66 ) 


Too many decline to accept Him on 
His own terms. 

Too many cavil and quibble and 
split theological hairs. 

Too many deny the efficacy of His 
blood. 

What think ye of Christ? 

He must be all in all or nothing at 
all. 

He will not tolerate divided allegi¬ 
ance. 

He will not accept divided service. 

He stands at the door of thy heart 
and life and knocks. 

He will not open the door and enter. 

You must respond to His knock. 


( 67 ) 


He has been standing at many, 
many, doors for many, many years. 

His importunity is thy opportunity. 

He offers thee peace on earth and 
peace beyond the river. 

How can you hesitate? 

No earthly treasure is comparable. 

The billionaire’s billions are baubles 
compared to the riches He offers. 

Son, Daughter, give Him thy heart. 

What Think Ye of Christ? 


( 68 ) 


THE GREATEST OF THESE 
IS LOVE 


God is love, and Christ is the Son of 
His love. 

Love and love alone brought Him to 
earth from Heaven. 

Love kept Him here. Love domin¬ 
ated Him. 

Love was the master motive of His 
every thought and act. 

Love sent Him on every mission of 
mercy. 

Love caused Him to weep over Je¬ 
rusalem. 

Love drove Him more than once up 
into the mountain to pray. 

Love caused Him to forgive the wom¬ 
an of Samaria. 


( 69 ) 










Love induced His sublime patience 
with His disciples. 

Love brought tears to His eyes at the 
grave of Lazarus. 

Love kept Him from forsaking fallen 
mankind. 

Love never failed Him. 

Love led Him straight to the Cross 
and the Sepulcher. 

Love prompted Him to say in the 
summit of His agony, “Father, forgive 
them.” 

Love lifted Him from the tomb, and 
made Him triumph over death. 

Love sent Him back to His disciples 
again and again after His resurrection 
and prior to His ascension. 

Love inspired Him to dispatch His 


( 70 ) 





ambassadors to the ends of the earth to 
save sinful man. 

Love prompted the Lord Jesus to 
send the Comforter to take His place 
after He returned to the Father. 

Love for lost humanity keeps Him 
standing at the door of every sinner’s 
heart begging for admission. 

Love unchanging, overpowering, 
marvelous, everlasting, abides in the 
heart of Christ, our Saviour. 

Love, His love, never faileth. 

The mystery and the tragedy are that 
any should spurn that love. 

Love will send the Christ back to 
earth again some day, in power, majes¬ 
ty and glory. 

Praise His Holy Name Forever! 


( 71 ) 


THOUGHTS OF THE DAY 
THOUGHTS BY THE WAY 


Lots of folk in their anxiety to prove 
their monkey origin forget their immor¬ 
tal destiny. 

They lose their way in the jungleland 
of the past and can see naught but im¬ 
penetrable jungle ahead. 

They forget that it is infinitely more 
important to ascertain where they are 
going than whence they came. 

They forget that the “New Knowl¬ 
edge” is not to be compared with the 
“Old Faith”. 

They forget that the “Old Faith” will 
withstand the unproven and unprovable 
theories of Darwin and every theological 
side stepper. 

The “Old Faith” will survive every 


( 72 ) 


assault of the world, the flesh and the 
devil. 

The Old Faith” never had greater vi¬ 
tality or more devoted champions than 
today. 

The Gospel Ship never had a braver 
nor better nor more loyal band of offi¬ 
cers and sailors than now. 

On the other hand, the Gospel Ship 
never had a more pestiferous bunch of 
pirates and buecanneers than today. 

If these satellites of Satan would only 
stay in their own scow and try to prove 
that it is a sure enough life boat, the 
Gospel Ship or the Gospel Crew would 
never be in peril. 

These satellites of Satan board the 
Gospel Ship in numbers and try to cor¬ 
rupt the crew and wrest the navigation 
of the vessel from true and tried pilots 


(73) 


who know the perilous passages, who 
never forsake the compass of the Holy 
Spirit, and who have the Master’s chart 
(the Holy Bible) ever in mind and heart. 

Many of Satan’s clerical coadjutors 
have adopted as their code and their 
creed the lines of a recent New York 
play, which run, “If your country’s laws 
forbid, change your laws; if your church 
forbids, change your church; if your 
God forbids, change your God.” 

Isn’t it time we were returning to the 
“Old Faith”, the “Faith of our fathers, 
holy Faith”, and once more pledging, 
“We will be true to Thee till death”? 

With the lightnings of unbelief and 
unrest flashing from every quarter and 
the torrential downpour of apostasy 
pelting on every side, where can God’s 
elect fly but to the “Rock of Ages”, 


( 74 ) 


which shelters His children from every 
storm? 

“Fear not, little flock, for it is the 
Father’s good pleasure to give you the 
Kingdom.” 

“Fear not! If God be for us, who 
can be against us?” 


( 75 ) 


THE REPUDIATARIANS 


Earth’s greatest and noblest man is 
he who is willing to be much or little 
in the sight of man, if only he may glor¬ 
ify God. 

Too bad Christ’s army has so many 
tin soldiers and coffee coolers. Satan 
fears their papier mache bullets about 
as much as an attack of jackdaws. 

If Christ’s army had been composed 
of genuine fighters, Satan’s battalions 
$vould have been routed long ago. 

To be strictly consistent, the devil- 
utionists must revise the Scriptures so as 
to read “In the beginning God created 
the monkey in His own image.” 

Did He? Not in ten billion years! 
You monkey doodle minister, you should 
go back to the jungle and climb and 


( (US 


chatter with your direct line ascendants 
on the family tree. 

Do you think God exhausted his cre¬ 
ative skill manward and Godward when 
He created the monkey? 

If so, do you believe in God at all? 

Do you think it is any harder for God 
to make a man than a monkey? 

The trouble with the modern church 
is there is too much monkey business. 

While God was about it, why did He 
not evolve the sun from a cigarette stub? 

We now have the atheist and the ape - 
ithist. 

Too often the theological exigesis 
means “exit-Jesus ”. 

No scientist of modern times ranks 
higher than Sir William Thomson, bet¬ 
ter known as Lord Kelvin. 


( 77 ) 


Just before his death he declared that 
his greatest discovery was that: 

“Christ Jesus came into the world to 
save sinners.” 

Logically, biologically and theologi¬ 
cally, the latest in-sects are Repudiata- 
rians. 

They repudiate the divine authority, 
inspiration, historicity and inerrancy of 
the Bible. 

They repudiate the Virgin Birth of Je¬ 
sus Christ. 

They repudiate His deity. 

They repudiate His Atonement. 

They repudiate the New Birth and its 
necessity. 

They repudiate Christ crucified. 

They repudiate Chirst lifted up. 


( 78 ) 


They repudiate the resurrection of the 
body. 

They repudiate the Holy Spirit and the 
Baptism of the Holy Spirit. 

They repudiate miracles in toto. 

They repudiate revelation and proph¬ 
ecy. 

They repudiate the Second Coming of 
Christ, never having believed in His First 
Coming. 

They repudiate every utterance of 
Christ in which He claimed to come from 
the Father, and had Oneness with Him. 

They repudiate every line of Scripture 
as fantastic and fallacious which runs 
counter to rationalism, naturalism and 
materialism. 

They repudiate every cardinal and sa¬ 
cred Article of Faith of the Christian re- 


( 79 ) 


ligion, having thrown faith into the dis¬ 
card, leaving nothing but the husks of 
hedonism and heathenism on which to 
feed. 

“Faith of our Fathers, holy faith”, 
having been given the twilight sleep, the 
spiritual and moral decadence of sons 
and daughters everywhere is inevitable. 

Jesus Christ is pictured as a dreamer 
or an imposter, without saving grace to 
save Himself or anybody else, and His 
Gospel of the New Testament is kicked 
into the corner by modernist professors 
and preachers. God save the mark! 

The repudiatarians toot their ration¬ 
alistic penny-whistles-made in Ger- 
many-so shrilly and persistently that 
they cannot hear the 'Still Small Voice’ 
calling them to penitence and prayer. 

Jesus declares: “I am the vine, ye are 
the branches”. 


( 80 ) 


The repudiatarian is out on the end of 
a branch, armed with a saw labeled, 'De¬ 
structive Criticism’ sawing away between 
himself and the vine, and smiling sapi- 
ently. 

Denying the blood that bought him, he 
nails Christ afresh to the Cross of Calva¬ 
ry. 

May we, who believe in the undiluted 
Gospel of the Lord Jesus, and accept 
Him, as the Way, the Truth and the Life, 
ask for grace to breathe the prayer ut¬ 
tered by Christ in the summit of His 
agony on Calvary, "Father forgive them, 
for they know not what they do”. 


( 81 ) 


CIVILIZATION 

VERSUS CHRISTIANITY 

Civilization can never stop war. 

Civilization is constructed of and for 
pleasure and profit, science and art, ed¬ 
ucation and culture, national honor and 
industrial prosperity, commerce and its 
concomitants. 

All this spells the glory of man, 
whereas the glory of God is but an unim¬ 
portant member of the equation, if in¬ 
deed a member at all. 

All these may insure war, instead of 
insuring against war. 

What then is the antidote for war? 

There is only one, and it is not re¬ 
cognized by the principalities of the 
earth as paramount. 


(82 


THE ONLY SPECIFIC AGAINST 
WAR IS JESUS CHRIST. 

Acceptance of Him by men and na¬ 
tions means peace. 

Rejection of Him means war. It al¬ 
ways has and always will. 

We call ours a Christian nation, and 
it should be, founded as it was by de¬ 
vout Christian men and women. 

Unless, except and until this nation 
shall unequivocally acknowledge Christ 
to be Lord and pledge its allegiance now 
and forever to the Cross of Christ, it is 
not and cannot be a Christian nation. 

This it has never done, in fact it has 
expressly repudiated Christ by banish¬ 
ing HIS BOOK from the schools of the 
land. 

Our so-called peaceful civilization is 


( 83 ) 


waging a constant warfare against God 
and His Holy Son. 

With its masked batteries and its 
camouflaged forts, this is the most 
deadly warfare of all. 

4 ‘He that is not for me, is against 
me.” Certainly the civilization of to¬ 
day is not lined up for God against the 
sinister forces of evil. 

The hulk of the people are at war 
with God, and it is too much to expect 
that they will be at peace with each 
other. 

Wars among mankind will never 
cease until men cease warring against 
the will of God. 

A civilization which leaves Christ out 
is built on perilous foundations. 

Humanity is a sin-soaked, sin-wreck- 


( 84 ) 


ed, a lonesome and loathsome thing 
without a Saviour. 

The world is lost, and only one be¬ 
ing can save it from certain doom, and 
that is Christ. 

Dr. Johnson once declared, “Human 
nature is a darned scoundrel.” 

Human nature dwells in the hearts 
and homes and heads of those who have 
attained the heights of civilization. 

Never in the history of the world did 
humanity face a graver crisis than now. 

Christ and Christ alone is the only 
deliverer. 

Christ is the only cure for the crisis. 

Christ is the only pilot for a world a- 
drift. 

Will the world accept the pilot and 


( 85 ) 


take the cure? 

Time alone can tell, and time will not 
wait forever. 


( 86 ) 



PRAYER AND PRAISE 


It pays to pray. 

It pays to pray unceasingly. 

Prayer is mighty with the Almighty. 

Prayer will untangle every snarled 
skein. 

Prayer will conquer every enemy, 
however virulent. 

Prayer converts the lilliput into the 
giant for God. 

Without prayer the Christian’s spir¬ 
itual muscles wither. 

If men would do more praying they 
would do less betraying. 

If God be our full partner we need 
have no fear of bankruptcy. 


( 8 /) 


“The fervent, effectual prayer of the 
righteous man availeth much.” 

“The prayer of the upright is His de¬ 
light.” 

Prayer is the golden key which un¬ 
locks the gates of pearl. 

“Praise is comely.” 

/Whoso offereth praise glorifieth 
Me.” 

“Let your mouth be filled with His 
praise.” 

Praise is the love child of prayer. 

“Praise His Holy name forever.” 


( 88 ) 








































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